Pumpkins and fireworks
by Oi-Watch-It-Spaceman
Summary: When Rose Tyler bumps into a tall, thin, charming stranger on Halloween she is intrigued, despite the fact that he has chosen to go out dressed as an enormous banana. So begins a story of the 6 days between Halloween and Bonfire night, a tale of pumpkins, fireworks and (if they're lucky) love. DoctorxRose AU
1. 31st October

**This story happens in the space between Halloween and Bonfire night, with a chapter for each day, which makes 6 chapters (I know, I'm so brilliant at Maths :P) There will be much fluff and most probably kissing at some point. Enjoy!**

It was Halloween again. It wasn't that Rose particularly despised Halloween – in fact, as a child she had always loved it, the costumes and the pumpkins and the sharp and unmistakeable smell of Autumn that hung in the air and she trudged through the dried leaves that littered the ground. In recent years however, Rose had found that Halloween tended to become an excuse for people to either jump out at you repeatedly until you were ready to throttle them, or use their costume as an excuse to try and chat you up, neither of which she had much time for. Still, volunteering to be the person who closed up the shop on Halloween had earned her a bit more money, and so she was feeling surprisingly cheerful as she locked the door and began to walk home to her flat.

It was dark outside, with the sky fading from dark grey to deep navy blue as the sun finished setting. Rose walked briskly along, wondering what was on telly that night and hoping she didn't get any trick-or-treaters coming to her door – she had nothing to give them.

She sighed, pushing her hands into her pockets to try and ward off the chill that was beginning to settle in her fingertips. She flicked her hair irritably out of her face, rounding a corner and smacking straight into a person walking swiftly in the opposite direction. She just managed to keep her balance, falling against the wall instead of onto the floor and ending up with only a slightly bruised arm. The person who had smacked into her was sprawled on the floor, though as she watched he sat up with a groan, rubbing his left elbow.

Later that night Rose cursed herself for not having looked at him more closely, for not getting a better picture of his face imprinted in her mind. It was understandable under the circumstances however, since the man in question was dressed in a bright yellow banana costume, drawing her immediate attention away from his face. Most of his body was contained in foam costume with the shape and markings of a banana, while his protruding arms and legs sported a skin tight yellow covering, the bright yellow converse trainers on his feet completing the outfit. All in all, he did bear resemblance to a banana – a strangely shaped banana that had somehow acquired sentience, but nevertheless, a banana.

Rose struggled to contain her giggles as she offered a hand in order to help him up, realising that an introduction and an "are you OK?" would probably be appropriate and yet still unable to get control of her laughter.

"Well I'm not going to pretend that didn't hurt," the man gasped, bouncing to his feet rubbing a sore spot on his back through its foam covering, "but I forgive you. It is Halloween after all, a time to forgive people – or is it a time to scare people and get you to give them sweets, I can never remember."

Rose had managed to control herself at last, so it was only now that she summoned up the courage to look the man in the eye, confident she wouldn't offend him by laughing at his unusual attire. His eyes nearly knocked her off balance – they were big and brown and sparkling, meeting her gaze and holding her there as if they had a magnetic pull. Rose found herself slightly unfocused and so, instead of asking him any of the typical questions that a person who had just knocked another person to the ground might ask, she opened her mouth and blurted out the first thing she could think of.

"Why are you dressed as a banana? Bananas aren't really very scary."

The man laughed, eyes crinkling, and Rose was certain she felt her stomach do a double flip. "And who said I have to look scary?"

"Well, you said it yourself, it's Halloween, a time to "scare people and get them to give you sweets" as I think you put it."

"That may be so, but that doesn't mean _I_ have to scare people. Didn't you see "Monsters Inc."? Laughter is much more powerful than fear."

"So you intend to make people laugh so much that they fling sweets at you?" Rose raised an eyebrow, folding her arms rubbing them with her hands, more to give herself something to do than to ward off the chill of the evening.

"Something like that."

They both ran out of conversation at the same time, and Rose fumbled yet again for something to say. "I'm Rose, by the way, Rose Tyler." _That's it, Rose, _she thought to herself, _you just tell the nice stranger your full name, that's the way to do it. _The man seemed delighted to hear this and he stuck out his hand wordlessly. Rose took it, enjoying the warmth of it and the grip of his long fingers as they shook hands.

He let go of her hand and looked at his watch, something that seemed ridiculously normal when teamed up with the rest of his outfit. "Well, must dash, people _not _to scare, sweets to eat and so on, good to meet you Rose Tyler." He rolled her name around in his mouth, seeming to enjoy the sound of it.

He tipped an imaginary hat to her and bounced past. Rose just caught the flash of a manic grin and the flutter of his waving fingers as he rounded the corner, the sound of his rubber soled feet slapping the pavement getting softer as he continued to walk away. Rose stood still for a moment, smiling slightly to herself. She had expected to be harassed by some moron in a costume on her way home, but her chance meeting with the banana man – she grinned as the mental image of his custard coloured costume floated across her mind once again – had put her in a good mood. Rose wondered if she would ever see him again, though she doubted whether she would recognise him in normal human clothes.

Although...

A pair of sparkling brown eyes, an infectious smile and a sprinkling of freckles popped into her thoughts. She shook her head and started off in the direction of her house, filing the encounter away as an amusing Halloween anecdote and nothing more as she stepped on an object that was most definitely not pavement.

Rose looked down to see what she had trodden on. She grinned without thinking, reaching down to pick it up and wiping mud off it with the sleeve of her jacket. It was a battered black wallet that opened up to reveal credit cards and a driver's license in the name of "John Smith". On closer inspection, Rose discovered a message printed in blue pen on the inside of the wallet: "if found, please ring this number," followed by a list of digits. Only a very forgetful person would feel the need to put their own phone number in their wallet in case it got lost – it occurred to Rose that this probably wasn't the first time this wallet had been dropped in the mud (she wondered where on earth he had managed to keep his wallet in that ridiculous costume.)

She slipped it into her pocket and carried on walking home. It appeared that Rose was fated to meet this "John Smith" once again and, she was almost ashamed to say, she was quite looking forward to it.

**Hope you enjoyed it, review if you feel the urge :) I should have a chapter up every day, to coincide with the dates in the story, but I'm quite busy so I might be a day or two behind. Allons-y!**


	2. 1st November

**Next chapter! Woop woop! More cuteness and fluffiness I'm afraid, if you don't like that I'd stop reading now, it's only going to get worse from here.**

_1__st__ November_

Rose was fidgety all the next day, not able to sit or even stand still as she worked. She was alone in the shop and it was a slow day, so there was not much that she could do to distract herself from thinking about John Smith. She had called his house last night when she had got back to her flat. He had not been home – Rose assumed that he was still out causing havoc in his banana costume – but she had left her number and the address of the shop, telling him that he could come in any time the next day to pick up his wallet.

In the light of the day Rose realised that she should have told him a specific time to come to the shop – she had wanted to leave the invitation quite casual, but in doing so she had condemned herself to an entire day of waiting that would probably only end with John Smith arriving, thanking her and saying goodbye without a second thought.

_Only a person who doesn't do anything exciting would be wound up over something this mundane_, Rose thought glumly, slumped in her chair and staring absently at the door to the shop.

Just as she was thinking that she might as well close up the shop and go home, a movement in the window caught her eye. It was him.

He grinned at her through the window, before pushing open the door and bouncing inside. Now he was no longer dressed as a banana, Rose thought again that she might not have recognised him. He was wearing a brown pinstriped suit that clung to his skinny frame, with a blue shirt and a patterned tie. His thick hair defied gravity effortlessly, seeming to almost crackle with energy as he grinned widely at her. Seeing the grin Rose realised that, however different he looked in his "normal" clothes, she could never have forgotten those sparkling brown eyes, even if she'd wanted to.

"Hi."

"Hi yourself," he replied. "We really should stop meeting like this. I'm John. Well, you probably knew that already, seeing as you're the one who found my wallet. John Smith, but people mostly call me the Doctor. Thank you for that, by the way, picking up my wallet I mean." He was babbling, but it seemed natural to her – in some bizarre way it suited him.

"It was no problem." Rose held out the aforementioned wallet. He took it, fingers brushing hers, and in that moment she found herself grasping at anything she could ask him to stop him from disappearing out the shop door.

"Why do they call you 'the Doctor'?" she asked, glad that her genuine curiosity had managed to mask the desperation in her voice as she sought for a reason to keep him talking to her. This seemed to be becoming a permanent state of affairs: Rose grasping at anything she could think of in order to keep herself talking to this John Smith a.k.a. "the Doctor."

He shrugged, though the look on his face betrayed his delight at being asked the question. "I really couldn't say. I'm not an actual Doctor, never wanted to be – I'm actually more into...well..." John –_the Doctor, _Rose corrected herself – looked suddenly a little bit nervous. He masked it well, pulling awkwardly on his ear and avoiding her gaze, but Rose could tell that he was trying to think of a way to avoid carrying on. Never one to skirt around the edges of an awkward conversation, Rose folded her arms and raised an eyebrow, her stare clearly telling him that she was not saying another word until he blurted out what he was trying so nonchalantly to hide.

"Well, apart from acting like an idiot and running, my favourite things are cooking and gardening." He blushed a little, and Rose fought the urge to smile at how cute he looked – like a teenager admitting he had a crush on someone. "That's actually my job. I invent recipes and all that (usually weird ones, just call me Heston Blumenthal.)I've done a couple of recipe books - I don't make a tonne of money from them but people seem to like me. Personally I think it's just me they like – you know, slim and a little bit foxy." He struck a pose and Rose laughed, dissipating the tension immediately.

"So you're sort of like some... food mad scientist or something?"

He laughed, pushing his hands into his trouser pockets. "I don't think any one sentence has ever summed me up better than that one."

"Glad I could be of assistance," Rose replied, smiling at him.

They were silent once again, but this time it was comfortable, the Doctor glancing around the shop and Rose taking the opportunity to look at him more closely. He was most definitely different – more different than anyone else she's ever met. It wasn't even the slightly eccentric way he was dressed, the hair or the enthusiasm. There was just something about him, as though his brain was wired differently to everyone else's.

The Doctor looked up and caught her scrutinising him. Rose blushed.

"So what now?" she asked him.

"Well, I don't know, if you're not doing anything this evening, maybe...we could do something?" His hands were still jammed in his pockets, his face carefully casual with just a hint of humour in his eyes.

Hand stroking her chin thoughtfully, Rose narrowed her eyes at him good-naturedly. "Maybe we could," she agreed.

"Maybe we could get some chips?" Rose raised an eyebrow. "Hey, you can't beat chips. I should know, I've been trying for years, even _I _can't invent something as nice as chips."

Despite his overconfidence she laughed, considering his proposal for a second before nodding. The Doctor's face lit up in a smile that seemed so genuinely thrilled that Rose could not help but return it, a warm tingle of happiness spreading through her as she thought about how long it had been since she had been so happy to be around another person – a person who was almost a complete stranger, at that.

She stepped out of the door after him, turning around and locking up the shop before sliding the keys into her pocket. She had her coat on, but even so it was dark and cold, and she rubbed her hands together to try and restore the warmth that the night air seemed to have leached out of them in the few seconds she had been outside.

"Here."

Rose looked up in surprise to see the Doctor cover her hands with his own. Their warmth was a relief to her cold fingers, and he held them there for a few moments before letting go of one of her hands. The other hand – her right one – stayed in his left. She looked down at it and then back up at his face, grinning despite herself. He returned her smile, and together they set off on the centuries old quest of many a freezing cold English person - the quest for chips.

**I'm not sure if I'll be able to get the next chapter up tomorrow, but I will try my very hardest. Thankyou for reading - my tumblr url is donna-and-her-spaceman, just in case you were interested... :P**


	3. 2nd November

**So this one's a few days late but whatever, it's my favourite one so far so it took a bit longer to write. Hope you like it.**

Rose happened to have an afternoon off the next day (though to be honest she would probably have called in sick if she had been working) and as the Doctor worked from home and whenever he felt like it, they arranged to spend Rose's afternoon off doing something exciting.

Exactly quite what the Doctor had meant by "exciting" remained to be seen.

Rose could never recall when she had enjoyed a freezing cold evening sitting on a bench eating chips with an almost complete stranger more than she had last night. Their conversation had ranged over a hundred and one topics – it had become clear very quickly that the Doctor was extremely intelligent, to the point where she wondered if there was anything he didn't know. In another person this might have been incredibly annoying, but Rose had been surprised by how funny and engaging and genuinely nice he had turned out to be. She had also been surprised by how easily she had slipped into calling him by his nickname. He had still not told her why he was called "the Doctor" – every time she had asked he had changed the subject, skilfully it had to be said. Rose was beginning to think that he didn't really know why.

She was looking forward to the day when he had to admit that one of the only things he didn't know was the reason behind his own nickname with great anticipation.

Rose knocked in his dark blue front door – he had told her his address the day before. He didn't come to the door for a few seconds, and for a moment she wondered if she had made a mistake. Of course, as soon as the Doctor opened the door with a delighted cry of "Rose!" and a warm, welcoming hug, any thoughts of being mistaken went right out of her head.

"Come in, come in, I've figured out something we can do!"

A few suggestions of things they could do flashed through Rose's head, none of them appropriate to voice at this particular time. "Go on then, what?"

He grinned gleefully, grabbing her hand and practically dragging her around the side of the house. "This way!"

"Isn't it a bit late to be carving pumpkins?" Rose asked doubtfully as she shifted the orange vegetable in her arms, determined not to drop it and embarrass herself. The Doctor had given her a quick tour around his garden before quickly going into a little shed and reappearing with two pumpkins, the last of his stock left over from Halloween. "I mean, it's November, you're two days late."

The Doctor cocked an eyebrow at her, throwing his own pumpkin in the air and catching it with precision that was almost annoyingly perfect. "Well, I've got spare pumpkins, I love Halloween, and we have to find something fun to do together today – I think pumpkin carving encompasses all those three things rather nicely, don't you think?"

"Fine then. I was only really asking because I don't trust you to use a knife safely." She grinned at the outraged look on his face.

"Oi! That's not fair." He nudged her playfully with his hip – it wasn't as bony as his skinny frame would have her believe. "I'll have you know that at least part of my profession involves being good with knives."

Rose pushed the kitchen door open with her elbow and placed her pumpkin on the wooden table before turning 'round to face him. "I'm expecting something impressive from you then."

He pushed the door shut with his foot and grinned at her. "Oh Rose, I'm always impressive."

They settled themselves at the table with knives and spoons and a bowl before proceeding to scoop out the pumpkin innards, Rose keeping her eye out for any signs that the Doctor might be thinking about starting a food fight. To be quite honest, it was exactly the sort of thing she expected him to do – there was no way she was believing his assertion that he was "too mature for anything like that, I'll have you know, Rose Tyler."

She decided on a classic pumpkin – smiling face, evil eyebrows, triangular nose. Nothing too elaborate. The Doctor on the other hand seemed to be holding to his word, though he wouldn't let her see what he was carving. After a few attempts to peek at his work, the Doctor warned her that he would stop carving and just shove the pumpkin on her head if she continued to try and spoil the surprise, with a face that was just the right balance between stern and amused.

Rose grinned and quickly looked back to her pumpkin, inwardly reminding herself sternly that she was holding a knife, and it was therefore unwise to become distracted by the Doctor and his face. This thought was enough to force her to concentrate on her carving for about the next 30 seconds, until she looked up and saw him staring at her, highly amused about something.

"What?" He continued to stare, a delighted grin covering his face. "Seriously, what is it?"

"When you're concentrating, your tongue pokes out the corner of your mouth," he told her, leaning his chin on his hand.

Rose rolled her eyes, pretending that she wasn't beginning to blush. "And what's wrong with that?"

"Nothing." The Doctor grinned and picked up his knife again, cutting smoothly with the artistic ease of a person who had done this a thousand times before, eyes continuing to smile long after the grin had faded from his lips.

Sitting at the wooden table, cutting out chunks of pumpkin and exchanging snippets of conversation, Rose found it strange to consider that she had only met this man the day before yesterday. She didn't know much about him, but he made it so easy to be comfortable around him that being awkward would have been a real effort. She watched him as he worked. He might not stick his tongue out while he concentrated, but he did look very cute. A few errant strands of hair had broken away from the rest of his gravity-defying mop and fallen over his forehead. He was staring intently at the pumpkin as he worked, a little line appearing between his eyes.

The sun was beginning to disappear from the sky by the time they had finished. The Doctor got up from the table and crossed the gloomy kitchen with his pumpkin covered hands held out in front of him like a zombie, adding a bit of groaning for comic effect. He flicked the light switch with his elbow, and it was only then that Rose realised how dark it had become. She sighed and examined her hands, flicking a few pumpkin seeds from her fingers.

"We might need these." The Doctor had appeared beside her, holding a couple of candles and a box of matches. He lifted the lid from his own pumpkin, careful not to let Rose see what he had carved into it.

Once both candles were lit and concealed inside the pumpkins, the Doctor nipped across the room to get the light switch before returning to Rose's side.

"Alright, you can look now."

Rose shifted around to the other side of the table and gasped. He had said it would be impressive, but she was still shocked. In beautiful curling script were written the words "The Doctor and Rose Tyler," and next to them was carved the silhouettes of two people, one tall and thin with an insane shock of hair, the other shorter with longer hair. The two figures were holding hands.

"That's incredible," Rose breathed, leaning closer to take a look. Each intricate detail was perfect. "Mine's a bit rubbish compared to yours."

"Oh I don't know," the Doctor replied, "I think carving something that was nothing to do with Halloween kind of takes a few points off mine, especially after I ranted at you about how much I love it last night."

Rose smiled, looking up at him - his face was half in shadow, the orange light flickering over his features. In the half light it was hard to read his expression. "So they're about equal then?"

He put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to him as he surveyed the afternoon's work. "I'd say so." Rose rested her head on his shoulder, more out of instinct than anything else. All coherent thought had gone from her head, all she could think of was how warm he was and how good he smelled, and whether or not the candles would set fire to the pumpkins if the Doctor forgot to extinguish them because he was too busy snogging the life out of her.

In the end, the Doctor didn't snog Rose Tyler. At least, not that day.

**This fic is pretty much my love letter to Autumn - I love it so much, it's my favourite time of year. The next chapter's sort of carrying on that theme. Review if you feel the urge, hope you enjoyed it :)**


	4. 3rd November

**Wow, sorry it's been so long! I've been extremely busy, and even when I had a little time to write, it just wasn't happening. Anyway, here's the next chapter, with another one hot on its heels if I'm lucky. Enjoy! (Edward Scissorhands is a film that reminds me of Autumn and Winter, so I thought I'd put it in. Plus, it's about being different and not accepted by most people, so I thought it had quite a nice connection with the Doctor.)**

3rd November

If someone had told Rose a few days ago that she would find herself wandering through the woods on an icy morning with a mysterious yet handsome man that she by accident on Halloween night, she would not have believed it. However, the sharpness of the cold wind as it nipped at her exposed face and neck had convinced her otherwise.

"It's cold!" Rose called to the tall figure walking a couple of metres in front of her, in a voice that sounded suspiciously on the verge of being whiny.

"It's November, what do you expect?" The Doctor was striding ahead, hopping over tree roots and occasionally kicking at piles of dried leaves. He turned back, watching Rose as she attempted to warm her hands, arms and face all at once, with quite humorous consequences. "Here," he laughed, practically skipping back towards her, unwinding his ridiculously long striped scarf from his neck as he went, "I don't really need it anyway." He wrapped the scarf several times around her neck. "Better?"

"Well, I certainly feel better; if by 'better' you mean that I can no longer move my neck." The Doctor continued to smile infuriatingly as Rose scowled at him, face barely visible over the coil of scarf that reminded her of a woolly Boa Constrictor attempting to make her into his lunch.

The Doctor quickly loosened the scarf until it was no longer strangling her, then took her left hand in his right, a gesture that had become commonplace between them over the past few days.

He seemed to be more in his element than ever out here. The cold air had given him energy as well as tingeing his cheeks with red. All of his reactions seemed to be exaggerated – when he laughed, he threw back his head and roared. His grins were wider, his eyebrows more expressive, and his tongue – well, Rose was really trying not to dwell on his tongue. She was certain that tongue would be the death of her.

They tramped on through the woods, the Doctor keeping Rose's hand warm and safe in his own.

"You said it wouldn't rain!" Rose shouted over thunder, holding the Doctor's scarf as a completely useless guard against the water pouring down on her head.

"I'm not a weatherman, I don't know everything!" he called back, holding her hand tightly and just about sprinting towards Rose's flat, feet splashing through the puddles.

"I wish I'd got that on tape."

"What?"

"You saying you don't know everything – I'm sure you probably only say it about once a decade."

"Oi!" They were in the hallway of Rose's building by this time, and the Doctor shut the door before shaking his soaking wet hair in Rose's direction, showering her with water droplets.

She grinned. "You know you're never going to win this competition - I've got more hair than you." She shook her head violently, covering the Doctor with water and effectively winning that battle. "Come on, let's go inside."

A few minutes later they were sitting on Rose's sofa, cups of tea in hands, with their wet coats and the Doctor's scarf drying on the radiator.

"Nice flat," the Doctor commented, glancing around him and taking a sip of his tea.

"Cold flat, you mean," Rose countered, pulling a blanket off the back of the sofa and throwing it over them both, "the heating's rubbish, it always has been. Anyway, what do you want to do."

The Doctor considered, tilting his head to one side in a move that reminded Rose of a cat she had had when she was young, though of course she didn't tell _him _that. "Well, I reckon the best thing to do on a rainy Autumn day is, probably, to snuggle up on the settee and watch a film."

"I heartily agree." She gestured towards the shelves of DVDs (and a few old Disney videos) on her wall. "Go on then, you can choose, seeing as you're the guest."

The Doctor stood. "It would be an honour, my lady," he said with an elaborate bow.

As he stood in front of the shelves, consumed in the agony of choosing a film, Rose attempted to get control of herself and the situation. It didn't bother her that they had not known each other very long, but it did scare her how easy it was to be completely open and comfortable in his company. It was also very hard to concentrate on keeping control when the Doctor's bum was just there, looking rather nice in his incredibly tight suit trousers.

"Aha!" He span around, Rose's copy of "Edward Scissorhands" clutched in one hand. "This one! One of my favourites."

"Me too. Pop it in then!"

The Doctor quickly put the DVD into the machine, giving Rose yet another view of his arse (she wondered if he was doing it on purpose) in the process, before leaping back onto the settee and dragging more than his fair share of the blanket over his skinny legs.

Rose pulled the blanket back towards her, causing a mini tug of war as the start of the film began to play. Needless to say, she won, celebrating her victory by distributing the blanket evenly over the both of them and giving the Doctor a stern warning about what would happen if he tried to steal it again.

They settled down, quickly becoming absorbed in the film – it was one that Rose had watched so many times before, and it appeared that the Doctor had too. She could tell by the way he smiled just before the funny moments were about to happen, and the occasional moment where he mouthed along with the dialogue.

About halfway through the film, Rose found herself leaning against the Doctor, head resting on his shoulder. It was comfortable, the sleepiness that seems to occur all too often after a walk on a cold Autumn morning had begun to overtake her, and she was rather bolder than she would normally have been as she curled her legs up next to her and wrapped her arm around the Doctor's waist. At the feeling of her nuzzling into his shoulder, the Doctor looked down at her, and the idea occurred to Rose that she should be feeling at least a little bit awkward. That idea soon vanished as the Doctor laid an arm gently over her shoulders, his head resting on top of hers. He let out a contented sigh.

After another 20 minutes of the film, they had managed to get themselves into a reasonably tangled ball of limbs. Rose sighed, sitting up and pulling the Doctor's legs and arms into the right places before lying back down. They were now pretty much spooning, Rose lying in front of the Doctor and feeling his long, lean body pressed up against her back. His arm draped over her waist almost instinctively, his head poking over her shoulder so that he could still watch the film, which was getting sad by this point. If the Doctor noticed Rose sniffing and holding back her tears at the tragedy of the film, he didn't say anything, though she was certain he held her just a fraction tighter than he had before.

The next thing she knew, Rose had shaken herself from her half dreaming state to see the menu screen on the TV. The Doctor was sleeping soundly, still holding her to him even as he slumbered.

She would've reached up and tried to find the remote control to turn off the telly, but the feeling of the Doctor's arms around her and his slow breathing on her neck quickly stopped any thoughts of moving in their tracks. Rose relaxed, allowing herself to slowly slip into sleep, desperately hoping in the back of her mind that this moments would not be the last time that they did this.

They slept into the afternoon, Rose waking up realising she was about to fall off the sofa, and the Doctor catching her with reflexes that were worthy of Spiderman (or so he said.)

Rose made to get up, thinking that they should get some food, but the Doctor pulled her back down.

"Let's just stay here for a bit," he said. So they did.

At least, until they got hungry.

**Hope you enjoyed it. Review if you want to, and the next chapter should be up soon - fingers crossed anyway :P**


	5. 4th November

**So sorry this has taken so long - I just couldn't seem to get on with writing it. Anyway, enough excuses, here it is. There's only one chapter after this one so fingers crossed I can get my act together and get it written before I die of old age. Anyway, enjoy!**

4th November

"I love fireworks, did I tell you I love fireworks because I really seriously do love them. They're like explosions but not really as dangerous and with colours and shapes all that noise, they're really just _fantastic_!"

Rose tilted her head to one side. "Weeeell," she began, mimicking the Doctor's voice and causing him to chuckle, "you say they're not as dangerous, but I bet that's only because _you're _not the one setting them off."

The Doctor nodded gravely. "That is very true – in face, the last time I set off fireworks I ended up with no eyebrows and half my hair gone. Imagine that, me with no hair! I couldn't do this for months!" He demonstrated, wiggling his eyebrows so wildly that Rose was surprised they didn't leap straight off his face.

The night was cold, but Rose had dressed more appropriately than the morning before and so she wasn't freezing. It was a shame, she would have loved an excuse for the Doctor to wrap her up with him in his long, brown coat and never let go.

They strolled along towards the park, not in any hurry. There was something in the air that made Rose feeling incredibly happy, and she didn't quite know why. It was probably something to do with the sky being filled with more stars than she had ever seen, the cold breeze that sent shivers down her spine, and the sharp branches of the trees, no longer masked by their usual covering of leaves. It felt as though anything might happen – though, in Rose's case, she had something much more specific ideas of what she wanted the "anything" to be, all of which included herself and the Doctor.

"Bonfire Night – it's almost as good as Halloween," the Doctor said, sounding almost as if he was talking to himself, something which he didn't do that much – not if there was anyone there to listen to him.

"But it's not even Bonfire Night yet, it's only the 4th!"

"Ah, but the fireworks don't start until about 11, so after a little while it will be midnight, and _then_ it'll be the 5th, you see?"

"I see that you're not really making much sense, but OK, we'll let it slide." Rose ducked to avoid a blow from the end of the Doctor's scarf, grinning infuriatingly at him.

They reached the park just before the fireworks started, the Doctor immediately finding them a perfect place to sit, slightly on a slope so they could see the sky better, and laying out his coat to give them something to sit on. Rose smiled at his obvious enthusiasm – it was almost child-like and yet it seemed so natural that she had started to do it herself without even realising. She had only noticed when the Doctor had pointed out (rather smugly) that she had got extremely excited when they decided to get chips for dinner the night before.

They settled themselves on the Doctor's coat, lying side by side and staring up at the sky as the fireworks began, the crackles and pops sounding just a fraction of a second after the lights had painted the sky with a rainbow of colours.

Rose raised their hands (it was taken as read that their hands would be clasped between them – she didn't even question it any more) holding them up in the sky and tracing the patterns of stars and swirls and explosions with their intertwined fingers.

" Can I just say," Rose said softly, turning her head towards the Doctor who was looking at her, "being with you, I love it."

He grinned, a slow grin that seemed to bubble up from inside him. "Me too." Rose was not sure she had ever felt happier than she did at that moment, in the cold on the grass with the skinny man she had literally bumped into only a few days before.

They must have lain there for hours, because by the time the fireworks ended Rose's back was numb with cold, even with the Doctor's coat to lie on. She stood up slowly, stretching her sleepy legs and hoping to avoid any embarrassing falling over due to a dire pins-and-needles attack.

The Doctor insisted on walking her home (Rose was hoping she could just invite him in when they got there, though the finer details of that plan had not quite fallen into place yet) and they walked hand in hand through the orange lit streets. They might as well have been in a ghost town, as they saw absolutely no-one after they left the park .It was eerie and Rose didn't like it, particularly as they began to cross the part of town that was less well lit.

This had to be a bad idea. Rose wasn't normally one for overreacting, but she also wasn't normally one for walking home late at night in the dark. There were barely any lights around – she had always been afraid of the dark as a child. Staring into the blackness on either side of her, Rose blocked the thoughts of things hiding just beyond her sight, focusing on the warmth of the Doctor's hand as it kept her anchored to here and now.

As it turned out, however, there was something lurking in the dark.

She heard them before she saw them – two men appearing out of the shadows. It was strange how, in that moment, Rose struggled to focus on anything she could see or hear. Later on she would strain to remember the details of the moments leading up to the next few minutes, but in the moment all she could see was the left hand man holding out his hand, saying something along the lines of "wallets and phones, now."

The Doctor stepped forward, reaching into his pocket. Knowing the Doctor he had probably lost his wallet again, and Rose did not want to think about what would happen if the thugs realised they had nothing. She gripped his hand but he let go of hers, trying to put himself between her and the men as though by instinct."We'll give you our money," the Doctor said slowly, holding out his hands in surrender, "just please don't hurt us."

The man on the right looked at the one on the left, raising his eyebrow as though in question. The other man nodded, and the one on the right grinned a revolting grin before pulling back his hand and punching the Doctor hard in the face. He whirled to the side, head smacking against the wall. He slumped to the floor unconscious and Rose felt anger and fear surge through her in equal measure. She summoned up her courage, as well as anything she could remember from her kick-boxing lessons that she had given up when she was 15, and prepared to defend both herself and the Doctor.

Rose whirled, punching one man in the face and kicking the other in the stomach. Pain flickered across her knuckles, but that didn't stop her from hitting again, using the heel of her hand to break the first man's nose. At least, she thought it broke – the feeling of it under her hand was disgusting, she winced as she heard it crunch. The one she had kicked in the stomach was coming towards her again. It wasn't graceful or smooth, but she stamped on his foot and smacked him in the throat, arms flailing wildly. It did the job.

Both men staggered up and ran off, looking back at Rose as she stood boldly on the pavement, trying to disguise the shaking in her legs. They rounded the corner, and her knees buckled.

She sat on the floor, back against the cold stone wall. Rose could feel her hands trembling, fear and adrenaline still coursing through her, as well as disbelief. She glanced across at the Doctor, panicking at the sight of him lying prone on the ground, not stirring in the slightest.

Crawling towards him (trying not to put weight on her hand – she suspected it might be broken) Rose looked for signs that he was still breathing. The relief that flooded her as she detected his chest rising gently up and down made her want to collapse on the floor all over again. Against her body's will, she summoned all of her strength to kneel next to the Doctor.

Rose carefully stroked strands of hair from his face. It was pale and a little cold, but there was no blood visible in the place where his head had struck the wall. Her hands moved over his head and upper body, desperate to find something to do to help him. She wasn't a doctor, she had no idea what she should do. Calling an ambulance was out – her phone was dead, and she was certain that the Doctor didn't have one.

"Idiot," she mumbled furiously at him, hands coming to rest on his shoulders. "Please wake up Doctor, I don't know what to do." She took a look around her, but the street was deserted. It was too late at night to expect anyone to be in any of the shops, and Rose could not leave the Doctor alone while she ran to get help. She pressed her face to his chest, arms curling around his neck to hug him tightly. "You'd better not die," she whispered to him, a tear running down her cheek and soaking into the front of his suit.

**Woopee. Oh wait, not woopee, only one chapter left :( still, I'll hopefully get this one out quickly and then there'll be more fic - that really is a "woopee!" review if you want to, hope you liked it :)**


	6. 5th November

__**I know I know, I took ages again. Still, here's that last chapter - enjoy!**

_5__th__ November_

Rose sat on a bench in the park. Alone. She was completely and utterly worn out, sure that the rings under her eyes and her messy hair were completely visible to the occasional passer-by, but unable to care. Last night had been like something from a dream, a nightmare, a film. Not a scenario she had ever thought she would find herself in.

It was about four o'clock, getting to the point in the afternoon when the sun was starting to set, casting long shadows.

She had been sat there for a long time – at least an hour. She and the Doctor had arranged to meet at about four, once she had been reassured that he would be fine. Rose had found herself sitting on the bench an hour early, just to give herself a bit of time to think. She was still mulling over the events of the last evening: the perfection of the fireworks, the fight, the Doctor's limp body lying on the ground, the frantic trip to the hospital once she had managed to get someone to call an ambulance, the endless waiting.

Rose had been terrified. She did not want to admit it to herself, but she had been truly scared by what had happened. The extent to which the Doctor being incapacitated had frightened her was faintly ridiculous, but the fact was that seeing him like that and being unable to do anything about it seemed fundamentally wrong. She might have known him for less than a week, but that didn't matter. All that mattered was that, whenever she closed her eyes, she could see him lying prone on the concrete, not responding to anything, appearing dead even if he was only unconscious. The only good side was that her training had kicked in, and she had been able, reasonably swiftly, to take on the thugs who had tried to mug them, sending them on their way. To be honest, she was certain that she had dealt with them much more effectively than the Doctor could have – he would have either been unable to fight or unwilling to hurt them. Fool.

"Anyone sitting there?" Rose looked up, shaken abruptly out of her thoughts by the sight of the Doctor, looking down at her and smiling.

"Actually I was waiting for someone," she replied smoothly, "but he's not here, so take a seat."

The Doctor grinned in a ridiculous grin and sat himself next to her, with just a little distance between them. He winced slightly, and Rose looked around at the back of his head. There was no visible sign of any injury.

"There wasn't even a cut." He had seen her scrutinising, checking for wounds. "I'll just have a bit of a headache for a while. They kept me in for observation but there wasn't even any concussion. Looks like you got the raw end of the deal on this one."

Rose smiled a little at this. "To be fair, I did do all the work." She raised her right hand in front of her, stretching out her arm so they could both admire the white bandage that covered her hand and wrist. She tilted her head to one side. "I think I'll get a blue cast when I go back in a couple of days."

"Why blue?"

Rose shrugged. "It's my favourite colour."

"Mine too." The Doctor was looking at her, so she kept staring straight ahead, choosing the grass rather than the face of the man next to her to focus on. She sensed the exact moment that his happiness changed to confusion, and his confusion changed to concern. "Rose?"

Well that was that. There was no way she could avoid his gaze now without directly ignoring him. She turned her head slowly, putting off the moment when she had to look at him. Their eyes locked.

"Are you angry with me?"

Rose laughed. It felt good to laugh, nice and normal. "No, no, of course I'm not." She reached out and put her hand over his. "I'm not cross I'm... I don't know what I am." She fell silent, and the Doctor did not break the silence, choosing to hold her hand and keep his gaze on her, letting her have time to get her thoughts together. She loved him for that.

"I suppose I'm still in shock," she blurted out. "I mean, I meet you and it's suddenly like we've known each other for years, and you're weird and exciting and it's just great, and then one second we're having fun and the next I'm fighting off people while you're lying on the floor nearly dead, surely you can understand that that is a lot to take in at once."

The Doctor didn't answer, and Rose bit her lip. She had said too much again. More than anything she did not want the Doctor to blame himself, and yet it seemed that she had.

"It's not your fault," she said slowly, waiting until he was looking at her before continuing, holding onto his hand all the time, "it's just... seeing you lying there and not being able to do anything, it scared me." Rose allowed herself another laugh.

Before she knew it she was leaning against his shoulder. She wished that his arm would slide around her shoulders, and it was a few agonisingly awkward seconds before that wish was granted. Feeling his body next to her, warm and solid and so alive, comforted her and made her feel a great deal better than she had all day.

"You were fantastic, absolutely fantastic, Rose." He barely spoke above a whisper, but she heard the words, felt them as he murmured them into her hair.

She snorted. "You weren't even awake."

"Yes, exactly, I got knocked out by one of those guys - hell of a right hook, _I_ can tell you. But you saw them off. Just brilliant."

"Well at least one of us is." This earned her a poke in the side from the Doctor, and she grinned, sliding an arm around his waist and hugging him tightly. "God, I'm cold, where's your scarf?"

"Well I can't remember it all the time! You're a grown person, get your own scarf. Better yet, make one!"

Rose raised an eyebrow and, seeing as the Doctor couldn't actually see it from where he was sitting, turned and looked him in the face, so he could appreciate the level to which she thought his suggestion was ridiculous.

The Doctor changed tack. "I'll get you one for Christmas! It's not that far away now, less than 2 months!"

"Do I detect a hint of excitement?" Rose smirked.

"Not just a hint, Rose. You should probably be aware – I _really _love Christmas."

"I wouldn't imagine anything less from you, Doctor." She stared into his eyes for a few moments – the sadness and confusion that she had felt earlier had lifted slightly, and she was starting to feel a sense of contentment creeping in.

"What's the matter?" The Doctor was worried about her.

"Nothing," Rose replied. Then, without thought or intention, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. Just as she had suspected: good lips, knows how to use them. He was kissing her back almost immediately (could he read her mind?) and it felt better than she had dared to hope it would.

"That was _not _nothing," the Doctor spluttered as soon as they had broken apart, "that was most definitely something."

"A very good something, I'd say."

"Well, I think I had something to do with that..."

"Oh shut up!" Rose laughed, smacking the Doctor on the arm.

Following that there was some wriggling and tickling and play-fighting, culminating in the Doctor lying on the bench, feet dangling over the end and head in Rose's lap. He looked up at her with an expression somewhere between amusement and confusion. "You know what? I have no idea how I got in this position."

Rose laughed and tweaked his nose. "Me neither."

She let her hand drift to his hair and stroked it gently. They sat there (well, lay there in the Doctor's case) for a long while, happy in each other's company, watching until the last rays of the sun had disappeared and the stars had faded into sight all across the sky.

The feeling of contentment had completely overtaken Rose by this point. So much so, in fact, that she didn't even notice how cold she was.

**Well now it's finished - I feel sad, I enjoyed writing it. Thankyou for reading and reviewing so kindly, I love all of you. I should be posting some more fic soon - something with the Doctor, Rose and the Master I think. If that sounds like your cup of tea then keep an eye out. My tumblr url is donna-and-her-spaceman, just in case you want to keep track :P**


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